COLD CASE AT CAMDEN CROSSING by Rita Herron Page A

obsess over girls,” Chaz said. “Did you get mad when she told you to leave her alone?”
    Barry started babbling about how he hit his nose on the tree again. “Didn’t do anything wrong. Tawny-Lynn...wouldn’t hurt her.”
    “You took pictures of my sister and Peyton Boulder years ago, Barry. I found them in your secret box.”
    “Pretty girls,” Barry said. “I just like pretty girls.”
    “What do you like to do with them?” Chaz asked through gritted teeth.
    “My boy doesn’t do anything to the girls.” Mrs. Dothan pulled Barry toward her. “He just likes to look.”
    Chaz reminded himself to be calm. He had no evidence that Barry had committed a crime. He removed his phone from his belt and retrieved the photos from Tawny-Lynn’s porch. “See that threatening message, Barry. Are you sure you didn’t get blood on you from the deer when you killed it and wrote on Tawny-Lynn’s porch.”
    Barry’s eyes widened in panic and a second later, he crumbled to the floor, wrapped his hands over his head and broke into incoherent sobs. “Don’t kill deer, don’t like blood. Stop it, stop it....”
    “Sheriff, you need to leave,” Mrs. Dothan said.
    Chaz glared at Barry’s mother. “If he hurt someone in the past, Mrs. Dothan, you’re not helping him by protecting him.”
    “My son isn’t dangerous,” she cried as she stabbed her cigarette into the ashtray and knelt by her son. “Now get out!”
    Chaz’s heart hammered as Barry continued to wail. Was he innocent, or was he more dangerous than his mother and everyone thought?
    * * *
    N OW THAT T AWNY - L YNN was back and asking questions, she didn’t want to stop. Seven years ago she’d been too traumatized and grief-stricken to think clearly. She barely remembered the sheriff talking to her or any of the leads he might have pursued in the investigation.
    But she was sure someone—a male—had dragged her from the wreckage. Only no man had ever come forward to claim his hero status.
    Which made everyone wonder if he had done something to Peyton and Ruth.
    Seeing Cindy triggered memories of the other girls on the softball team. Not just the three who’d died, but the other players on the team who hadn’t taken the bus that day. Two had been sick with a flu that had swept through the school, another girl had been out of town due to a death in the family, Judy Samsung had been benched due to a broken arm and Rudy Henway and Paula Pennington had gone home with their parents because they’d planned to take the SATs the next morning.
    Tawny-Lynn drove into town and stopped by the drugstore to pick up a refill of her migraine medication, then found a local phone book on the counter at the pharmacy. She grabbed it, slipped into a chair in the corner and thumbed through it, searching for each of the girls’ names to see if any of them still lived in town.
    Paula showed up under her maiden name, but not Rudy. But there was an ad for the Sports Barn, owned by Rudy Farnsworth. It had to be the same Rudy.
    She punched Paula’s number but the phone had been disconnected. She dialed the Sports Barn next and a woman answered.
    “Hello, this is Rudy at the Sports Barn. What can I do for you?”
    Tawny-Lynn panicked and hung up. She berated herself as she took a deep breath, then hurried out to the truck and drove to the shop on the edge of town. The ancient building had been renovated since she’d moved away, but as she entered, she realized the inside hadn’t changed. Jerseys, shirts, trophies, bumper stickers and every other sports paraphernalia related to the local teams, both elementary, middle, high school and club teams were represented.
    When she was small, she’d coveted the gleaming trophies in the glass cabinet.
    “Be right with you.” A young woman with striking red hair in a ponytail stood behind the counter writing up what she assumed was an order.
    Tawny-Lynn remembered the tough-girl attitude Rudy had always emanated. She’d always